Resonance

-Where are we going?- he whispered to me. 

-We are going to run some tests.- I told him, leaning over the back of the wheelchair. 

-At two in the morning? 

-It's the time the machine is free. 

He either was okay with the answer or the empty corridors of the hospital scared him. To be fair, I was scared when I started too. One thing were the corridors of the patient wings at night, there was always noise, and nurses to talk with. However, the outpatient services wing was different. Everything was closed, and the corridors had only a third of the lights on, at most. The sound of footsteps resonated everywhere, making it look like there was an army storming the hospital, and yet, in some places all the sound became absorbed and it became eerily quiet. There were air currents, too. You had the feeling that someone could jump on you at any time, even if you knew there was no one. And I loved it. I could have taken another route to the MRI, but I liked those corridors better. At one point we had to pass next to the morgue, and knowing there were bodies behind the door always gave me a warm feeling. I could never voice those feelings, I had no one to share them, and even if I had no one would have understood. The fact was that walking through that corridor made me feel more alive than I had ever felt. I kept pushing the wheelchair energetically, mindlessly humming to myself. He was nervous, his hands clinching to the arms of the chair, his knuckles snow white. We were getting close to our destination and I could feel the static that preceded it, a static no one could feel. People would complain about the noise, but no one else felt the electricity that floated in the environment. 

We finally arrived to the MRI facility. It was waiting for us on the other side of the glass. Enormous, like a sleeping giant, a soft hum came out of it. At least that was what it seemed to me, people always complained about the terrible noise it made. No one could really appreciate it. To me the MRI was a living being, a perfect machine. He was calmer now, he had been through resonances before, he knew what was coming. I pulled out a syringe from the pocket of my labcoat. He stared at it. 

-It's some contrast to be able to see your blood vessels more clearly.  

He nodded, and pulled up the sleeve of his pajamas to allow me to have a better access to his veins. I found one that was good enough and pushed the syringe, the liquid entered his bloodstream easily. I made him stand up, the wheelchair couldn't go inside the MRI room. He lay in it, and I left him alone while I was going to the control room. It was show time. The MRI started making the usual noises it made to change the spin of the electrons, it was convenient as it blocked out his screams when the metal molecules started tearing him from the inside. It was a necessary sacrifice, the MRI needed one every once in a while.